


breeze calling

by guttersvoice



Category: Dissidia: Final Fantasy, Final Fantasy V, Final Fantasy VIII, Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Gen, Headcanons Aplenty, M/M, squall goes by leon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 18:36:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6765274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guttersvoice/pseuds/guttersvoice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a newcomer to radiant garden recognises leon. leon's own memories are a lot fuzzier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	breeze calling

**Author's Note:**

> this assumes that kh takes place in the same timeline as, and after, dissidia. also assumes that in early, unseen dissidia cycles, people got downtime to talk about their pasts at least a bit.
> 
> its ok if you havent played ff8, but it might help, since this plays off a plot point involving summons and memories.
> 
> this was inspired by [this art](http://bokokokoro.tumblr.com/post/98948238776/tabs-and-i-were-talking-about-kingdom-hearts) by tumblr user bokokokoro, actually! though the bartz in this might look a little different, because i have a tall bartz bias

“Hello, stranger.”

It sounds like a joke, with that lilting intonation, and when Leon turns, grey eyes glint with familiar laughter. But he doesn't recognise this man at all.

This isn't unusual: the one thing he never manages to forget is how much worse his memory is than everyone else he knows. The expectation in this stranger’s expression, though - he definitely knows Leon, one way or the other.

“Sorry, I don't know you. You might have mistaken me for someone else.”

He's never been good at being subtle, and he'd rather not raise this guy’s hopes of being recognised.

The other man steps closer, and he’s taller than Leon. His clothes are - distractingly tight, showing off broad, bare shoulders and lean thighs, dripping with beads that jingle as he moves, dangling from his neck, his ears, the sashes tied around slim hips. A slim silver band across his forehead. He's not too subtle, either, Leon supposes, as he gets examined from top to toe by those grey eyes that still dance with amusement. Like he’s playing this part, rather than seriously figuring out if he knows him. When he leans down a little to peer at the Griever hanging from Leon’s neck, Leon can see a wisp of what looks like a feather, bright yellow, caught in his mess of nutbrown hair. He resists the urge to pluck it out.

Maybe he does know this person, if his instincts are already pushing him to tidy his hair and neaten his silk scarves. He usually wants to leave people he hasn’t met alone as much as he’d rather they leave him alone, but this guy? He wants to help patch up the tear in the knee of his leggings.

Apparently satisfied with what he sees, the stranger stands straight again, grinning down at Leon.

“Mm, no, you're definitely Squall,” he says, and Leon’s chest constricts at the name he only half-remembers is his own. The man is still smiling, though. “But it's okay if you don't remember me. Those GFs of yours really did a number on your brain this time, huh?”

Leon blinks slowly. He knows that abbreviation, he thinks. Yuffie has used it, he's pretty sure. Or someone like Yuffie. Someone yellow, maybe.

“I don't have a girlfriend,” he says, without thinking, and the stranger's laugh is like a fresh breeze.

“That bad, huh? Okay, I don't mind starting from scratch, I guess,” he says, scratching his head. The feather falls out of his hair and drifts to the floor. Leon stares at it, and almost doesn't notice the hand being offered for him to shake. “I'm Bartz! Nice to meet you, again.”

He has a firm, enthusiastic handshake, and keeps hold perhaps a second too long.

“Leon,” he replies, and the stranger's - Bartz’s - eyebrows shoot upwards, but he doesn't say anything about the name.

Normally by this point Leon would be itching to leave, to get back to his own room (an image, for an instant  of some kind of uniform, a black and gold shape hung in front of a window: beyond the glass, blue. the word ‘garden’, which makes sense, because they're in Radiant Garden right now. he blinks the stinging thoughts away) but right now there's just a calm inside him, the itch not even threatening to push his feet away from conversation. The wind ruffles both their hair and he doesn't mind at all.

Perhaps it’s just guilt, for not knowing Bartz the way Bartz seems to know him, but there’s something comfortable there, too, that he can’t quite place.

“Well then, Leon,” Bartz grins and maybe there is something familiar about him; about this situation. A soft feeling that Leon can't quite reach. “You wanna show me and my friend around this place? Seems like you know your way.”

“Whatever,” is his instinctive response, which only makes that bright grin wider, which means this guy definitely knows him, but then - “Wait, your friend?”

Bartz looks behind him, sees the nobody - though, thankfully, not the Nobody - that Leon has pointed out, and heaves a dramatic sigh.

“Okay, I lost my ride,” he says, and then lets out the most inhuman set of squawks and trills Leon has ever heard. It's the kind of sudden noise that would normally startle him into high alert, but he’s almost actually smiling for once, somehow.

Something cold tickles the back of his mind, and he can almost name the shiver. It's an apology, maybe, though he’s not sure who's apologising, or for what.

A responding squawk from the distance, and Bartz’s hand is in his, pulling him to run towards the noise. Their hands fit together easily, like they’ve done this before, and Leon has no frightened, instinctive urge to pull away.

The smile feels strange, tugging at his lips like this. It’s - he hesitates to even think it - kind of nice. Maybe this time he’ll have the courage to ask Bartz what he remembers of the man named Squall that Leon might have been, once. Maybe he won’t.

Right now, they’re chasing a giant flightless bird through Radiant Garden, and it doesn’t matter.


End file.
